Tilt
by Miss Haps
Summary: Life's like a swing: You only fail if you quit trying to get higher; Their desire left them unbalanced, yet it still continued naturally. Now if only the stubbornness of Gabriella's emotions could let her realize that they were meant for eachother. TxG
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I've been thinking about working about this for a while. Key word: thinking. Yeah...that doesn't get you anywhere. So when I actually start it, it's hard for me to write...you know, constantly stopping and starting over again, but I'm not entirely sure if it's worth reading or continuing on that matter. Anyways, please read and review while you guys have the time, considering I almost never do...**

**Disclaimer-I don't own anything. **

**This entire story has been BASED off of a TRUE STORY. Thanks. Read and Review.

* * *

**

_**Tilt**_

A blur.

Of what seemed like millions of lights, clustered together into a rainbow of yellows and oranges, along with what was left of the fallen crisp autumn leaves. An array of colors glittering bellow the chilly weather, while few of the visible stars shone through the blanketed dark purple sky. A blended universal chorus erupted from below her feet; people laughed and shouted, and smiled. Sang. Cheered. Interacted. It was an overwhelming mixture of all five senses, where her fingers had numbed and her eyes were squinted, trying to make out her abandoned friends or a distraction from the falling temperature.

It only came once a year, every late fall, and the only thing she really did look forward to was the alignment of thirty six colored cars rotating and twirling around the significant atmosphere. Whether alone or with friends, she would only visit for the single pleasure.

Shivering, Gabriella Montez leaned backwards, relaxing in her seat and breathing rhythmically to the gentle tilting of her own red car. A frame of lights were blinking and flashing in pattern around her face, and a peaceful tinkling sound rang whenever colors alternated every three or so minutes. Her breath hitched after the ride had to stop once more, letting another group of people have a ride that night.

She sighed, waiting until the wheel went back into its predictable clockwise motion. Then, after the car rose up to the point where crowds of heads were only visible as dots, Gabriella let the car rock back and forth again, listening to the humming and soft squeaking of the old model, but with a feeling at the pit of her stomach and frost bite making its way up her arms, strangely, neither was as comforting as she expected it to be that night.

From her freshman year to her current senior year, Gabriella had accepted the tag of invisibility with open arms. She never found herself as the most friendly or warm hearted person, but being placed somewhere in one of the more lower placements on the scale from complete social retardation and lover of everything that moves, her high school career consisted of little to nothing interesting or special.

She had done nothing memorable nor remarkable in the past three years and by straying away from other people's personal lives, or even a regular extra curricular activity other than the academics team, she practically gave way whenever spoken to. The result was basically an antisocial instinct attached to her like a shadow, few close friends that she actually conversed and spent enough time with, and long talks with her mother on a daily basis about life and the importance of a good education.

Watching the sizes of people slowly reduce to the proportion of an ant for the umpteenth time, she rubbed her upper arms, through her thin jacket, in an attempt to keep herself warm. Then, rotating back closer to the ground, she glanced slowly at a group of teenagers close to her age. Two out of the five people were holding hands, another girl was giving her friend a piggy back ride while the rest of them plainly laughed with one another, stuffing large amounts of cotton candy in each other's mouths. Gabriella sighed longingly, that was probably the tenth time she saw a group of people living that same scenario that night.

Questionably, Gabriella never had major regretful thoughts before. However, she didn't remember a significant beginning to it either. She was able to talk to people-just not animatedly, she knew people-not personally or by their full names most of the time, and she did speak-only when spoken to, but she had been completely ok with that until a few months ago. And it just seemed unfair. She just knew that it was a new emotion to her, a new feeling full of unusual distracting qualities. But whatever reason, her comfort zone seemed to be shrinking this way along with her already limited confidence and self esteem.

Checking her watch, Gabriella groaned loudly. _11:12 PM. _The fair would be closing at 11:45 that night and her mother would be expecting her home by that time.

"Hey Gabi!" a voice rang from below her feet.

Looking down, she gave a small smile, waving back, and rolling her eyes teasingly, "Hi Chad..." As her car began to slow down, faces of people began to be more prominent, along with the frenzied mass of curls, which somehow looked even bigger on her afro-ed friend. Chad Danforth was actually one of the few people-that was outside of her close relatives-she talked to on a daily basis. However, they had only met through their mother's former book clubs held at each other's houses. Nonetheless, that had come to an end when the two of them entered high school, but they stayed relatively close considering they lived less than two blocks away from each other.

This year however, her friend had volunteered to help work at the anticipated fall state fair that year along with his girlfriend, one of her other few close friends, Taylor Mckessie, and ironically, he was stationed to work the Ferris wheel that night, letting her have as many rides as she wished.

Chad gave Gabriella a friendly grin, proudly clenching the ride's single lever in his own frozen hands, "You okay up there?! You're looking pretty distant tonight!" he howled over the crowd of people waiting in line behind him, brushing people's complaints.

Nodding, Gabriella laughed, giving him an assuring thumbs up, "I'm fine Chad! You know how I love the Ferris wheel..."

Chad smirked, watching Gabriella slowly make her way towards the lowest point of the ride, "Hey again Gabs." Fiddling with the lever until the ride made a complete stop, he ignored the irritated couple behind him who were apparently next in line. "Last round for tonight, before going home?" Chad asked lightly, knowing the answer all too well. Watching her grin sheepishly then nod, he shook his head with his own smirk adorning his dark features. "I'll never get why you love this thing so much. I mean...you always know where it's going to end up..."

Sticking out her tongue, Gabriella rolled her eyes, "Whatever Chad...just let me have my fun."

Slowly opening the rusted iron gate, Chad let a group of teenagers, no different from the several Gabriella had spotted earlier that night, crowd their way into one car, while a couple, looking around their late twenties, joined each other in the last open car. His nameless coworker then stepped off the seating deck to check the safety and locks on the doors, occasionally muttering 'have fun' or 'enjoy yourselves' in between the process.

Gabriella stayed silent as the people around her made themselves comfortable. Patiently, she waited for the Ferris wheel to spin again, fiddling with her hands and fingers while staring at her lap.

"Hey... is it ok if I sit with you?"

Hesitantly lifting her head up, her face flushed a deep shade of red, ironically wishing the heat on her face away, unlike a few minutes ago, when she was creating as much friction with her palms as possible. Gabriella leaned to her left, trying to catch Chad's attention. He gave her a cheeky smile as his eyebrows raised teasingly. Gabriella watched her friend slowly let go of the wheel's lever, allowing him to motion a pushing movement with his hands, flicking his wrists forward.

Sighing, she stuttered something incoherent, twirling her hair between her middle and index finger and refusing to look whoever this stranger was in the eyes.

This was all too familiar for her. Her mother would complain about it when they attended parties, and she refused to leave the house without-the minimum-of a three inch thick book, her ipod, and a nonverbal "do not disturb" sign. Along with her parents, her teachers, who she knew always grew impatient whenever they had to make her speak up when answering a question in class, would constantly give the sickly sweet talk after class the consisted of a speech that praises her work before crushing her pride and pointing out the numerous flaws that had occurred during their lessons. It was simply a force of habit. A natural tendency.

After swallowing hard and biting her tongue from its brief spasm, despite her better judgment, she finally let a muttered "sure" stumble from her lips.

Mentally cursing herself, as Chad's partner for the night flashed her a smile and gave the thumbs up to start the ride again, Gabriella moved as close as possible to the other railing built at the far end of the car. Keeping her head down and fists clenched into her lap, she uncomfortably licked her lips between seconds to keep her tongue from drying out in the cold.

An awkward silence stood among the two people, while on of them was trying her best to resist the urge to look back up, remaining in a feeble attempt to stay clam and stare at her feet. Gabriella could feel her heart beat quicken, while she fought a losing battle. Swallowing harshly, she forced her eyes to look up, feeling her face turn a dark shade of crimson red and making herself nauseous.

The boy looked about seventeen, her own age, and even when sitting down, he seemed a foot taller than her, compared to how she was barely five feet tall. He gave her one of the most abnormal expressions she had ever received. His hair was a caramel brown color that fell over his forehead in soft strands, slightly curtaining his eyes: a strikingly notable blue pair of irises against the blinking lights of the ride that seemed to bore into her own. Counting the seconds that passed, it dawned to her that this boy was uniquely attractive.

Gabriella's face was beginning to slowly regain its original color when the other passenger to her car finally said a word.

Smiling, he spoke smoothly, tapping his fingers patiently on his knees, "Were you being sarcastic back there?"

Gabriella's face fell, her blush creeping back to her cheeks, "Um...excuse me?"

Raising his eyebrows, he repeated himself, "Were you being sarcastic?" After realizing there wouldn't be a reply once again, he smiled slightly, "Cause you don't seem to be very comfortable with me being here."

"Oh," she whispered, raking her numb fingers through her shoulder length dark hair. Rubbing her warm cheeks with the back of her hand, she mumbled a reply. "Um...no...-yes, ugh. I-I'm fine. It's just...I-I'm not used to, um, riding with anyone..." Gabriella answered softly, before adding in a low voice, "Especially with strangers..."

Waiting a few seconds, he grinned honestly. Then, replying in the same comfortable tone, "Eh...I guess I'm not used to it much either." Shrugging his shoulders he continued to smile softly, holding out a large hand in front of her. "I'm Troy."

Gabriella sat frozen to her seat, staring awkwardly at his lengthened hand. The term 'A handshake is one of the first nonverbal clues we get about a person's overall personality' came to mind, after hearing it so often in classes where they constantly reminded her about resumes or job applications, and by judging herself on her social life, she expected to forget whether you should shake a hand vertically or horizontally.

Letting Troy clasp his larger hand around her own, she mumbled feebly, "Gabriella."

His hand was warm to the touch, slightly calloused and rough, but oddly comforting. The angles of his face changed and the ends of his blue eyes crinkled into a cheeky expression. Her breath hitched a little afterwards, and she pursed her lips in embarrassment, wishing her freshly gained blush away. Shakily, Gabriella let go, shivering after the chill came back to replace the warmth in her palms and grew a bemused expression after she saw Troy chuckle to himself.

"What's so funny?" she asked, surprisingly calm.

"Nothing," Troy smiled, reassuringly waving a hand away, "It's just that..." He paused for a moment, wearing a thoughtful expression. Watching her lower her eyes at his gaze, her hair shading her face, he finally continued, "I see you a lot whenever I come to the fair every year."

Looking up, she blushed, "O-oh..."

"I see you a lot around this time of year," he repeated himself, looking directly at her, his lips pursed and he wore the same distant expression. "You spend most of your tickets on this ride."

Her stomach quivered, she didn't really know whether to be completely disgusted and creeped out, or flattered that out of all people, this total stranger took the time to notice her. Attempting to smile, she replied with the first thing that came to mind, "Well...er, I'm sorry. Uh, I can't really say the same about you...um...w-what was you're name again?"

She felt her face flush for what seemed like the twentieth time in the matter of ten minutes, but her cheeks relaxed when he chuckled, answering willingly, "Troy. My name's Troy."

"Troy." Gabriella repeated with a curt nod, storing the name into her head.

Looking over the small girl, Troy gave her a friendly smile. "Don't you go to East high?"

Twisting her face into a confused expression, she slowly nodded her head, "Yeah...um..." She bit her lip, "D-do I know you? Or is it the other way around, because, I-I'm pretty sure I haven't met you before."

"I was in most of your classes last year."

She felt her stomach drop and her hand propped up her chin, swinging her legs under the hard seat. "...I didn't expect that."

"I'm on the basketball team with Chad," he added lightly, "You know him right?"

Gabriella nodded, "That would explain it," she giggled, "I'm oblivious when it come to sports or athletics...or music...or art..."

At that moment, she felt totally lost. She was a normally shy and conscientious person. Whether you see it as a physical or personality trait. She didn't desperately need the superficialities of meaningless chitchat, gossip, or unworthy companionship, but at that instant she felt a warm feeling emerge from somewhere beneath her chest.

In the midst of her own thoughts, Gabriella had a question come to mind, "I just met you," she whispered.

"Is that a bad thing?" he raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged carefully, fixing her slouching posture, "I'm not very...talkative in the first place." Swallowing softly, she added, "And you're here without even knowing me."

His mouth was slightly ajar in thought, his forehead creased and his eyebrow raised, but she dismissed it wanting an answer,

"Why are you even here Troy?"

Watching her, he muttered, "I like the fun house...and the corn dogs aren't so bad here."

"No, like, _here_. Out of all places in this fair," she sighed.

Troy's eyebrows pulled together, "I don't know," he rested his feet on the bench opposite theirs, "You looked lonely...and I just thought that you might-". He paused quickly, taking a moment to notice something. Her jeans had a gaping hole around the left knee and her sweater was not nearly doing the correct job it was designed to do. When he found her looking back at him, Troy noticed her tremble slightly. Rubbing the back of his neck, he asked politely, "Um, are you cold?"

"Not real-" she began dryly before suddenly realizing the drop of temperature. She knew it was getting closer towards midnight but it didn't really occur to her how cold it had gotten.

Before letting her answer, Troy simply gave her his own sweater. Gabriella found herself in complete awe and reverence, and thanking whatever wonderful force that had placed him, this boy-this stranger, with her tonight.

Zipping the sweater, she felt her muscles relax and another blush creep onto her face. He no longer said anything, and his face wasn't very readable, but from her reaction, this was an even newer feeling to her. This was something that wasn't normally offered to her whenever she was content to show expression.

"Gabs! Hey Gabi!" The familiar voice rung in her ears, followed be a halting squeaking noise and a sudden loss of motion. Wincing, she nearly fell forward before Troy caught her balance. Waiting until the tilt of the Ferris wheel car lessened, she stood up awkwardly, hugging her torso,

"W-what was that Chad?"

Chad took her hand impatiently, and gently tugged her onto the ground, "Hurry up! You so owe me! I let you guys stay on there _way_ longer than I really should have. The fair's closing in, like six, minutes!"

"What?!" Looking around, she realized she and Troy were probably one of the only few visiting people left in the park. How could more than half an hour pass in what seemed like so little amount of time?

Before she could answer her own question, Troy somehow made his way out of the Ferris wheel's car to appear in front of her, flashing her the same warm smile he had provided her throughout their entire conversation, "It was really nice meeting you Gabriella." Then quietly moving out of their way, in order for Chad to practically push his friend towards the parking lot, she unfroze from the spot as she watched his retreating figure.

But, for the tiniest instant, Gabriella felt her heart beat quake beneath her chest, she felt the quick pulse reverberate throughout her entire body for the shortest second, before she felt that something was missing, something seemed forever gone after that night. Smiling back at him, the two of them waved goodbye as her legs slowly regained ability to move again. But she swore to herself that this was all a dream. That is was just too illogical to be true. That it was totally surreal. Because, as she got made her way back home, a thought was stuck in her head and she felt the slightest flutter.

Right where her heart should have been.

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**AN: So, was the worth continuing? (Oi...haven't we all heard this type of desperation before?) PM if you have anything else to say to me and PLEASE review...I'll give out virtual hugs if you do.**

**-ImmaHatefulCritic  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thank you for the reviews. I'm incredibly sorry that this couldn't have been updated earlier. I've actually rewritten this about four times (yet...I'm still don't think it's as good as it could have been). But thanks for the support and the encouragement to continue...now that I finally have enough time to, at least. **

**Er...yeah...this is me being unconfident. Psh.**

**Disclaimer-I don't own anything. **

**This entire story has been BASED off of a TRUE STORY. Thanks. Read and Review.

* * *

**

**_Tilt_  
**

It's often rare for one person to speak before another break's through one's sentence with a rebuttal. And even so, if, by chance, one person is able to let a complete thought or opinion out of their system, three out of four of those so called listeners will hear your words, but will normally only absorb parts that suits them most.

At times, philosophy takes a different perspective to seem like a life motto. And sometimes, it's just annoyingly accurate.

Running her hands through her hair, the steps leading towards East high school's media center seemed steeper than usual, as her foot steps echoed throughout the large room, reverberating in loud thumps that didn't really match the size of her feet. Falling over into a chair, Gabriella sighed deeply, pulling her unkempt hair from her eyes before resting her head on a desk.

According to Mrs. Darbus, her homeroom teacher, the library would be closed due to the absence of the school's only librarian. It was unlikel her to even sneak off inside the empty room without permission, but during her last period, she found that lunch was suddenly unappealing and roaming across the school seemed even more pointless that sitting in an empty high school library.

Fiddling with her thumbs, Gabriella breathed a deep sigh, as a Monday, it seemed reasonable, but over the past few months, she was losing interest in most things she would normally do through her daily schedule. The crowds mobbing the hallways seemed bigger, classes seemed longer, and conversations acted more as rambles to her.

She was tired; unexplainably tired.

The chair she sat in creaked as she leaned back on it, sighing for the umpteenth time, Gabriella kept her mouth into a straight line. Maybe it was her avoiding reality yet again, as she skipped her lunch period, but her thoughts seemed to be occupied with more than one thing at the time. Stroking the small messenger bag hanging over her shoulder, she let a pocket-sized form of a smile linger on her face for a moment.

Inside may have been nothing more than a plain one and one half inch binder, a pencil or pen, and a notebook for most weekdays, but for the entire weekend and her classes in the morning, Gabriella had stuffed Troy's jacket inside the largest compartment. Grinning, she breathed in the faint smell of his cologne, the scent she had slowly became used to over the passed few day. Gabriella was actually hoping to find Troy again, her excuse wold have been to return his jacket, but unfortunately, although she had been actually searching in her classes, she hadn't seen him.

"Gabriella?"

Turning around hesitantly, she nodded her head curtly, "Hey Taylor..."

Her childhood friend walked over to her slouched figure. Cocking an eyebrow, she looked over her shoulder, before asking, "What the heck are you doing here?"

Lifting her gaze, Gabriella shrugged her shoulders carelessly, "I could ask you the same question," she muttered, propping an elbow, "I thought you were at lunch with Chad and Sharpay. You know...eating and socializing and all that fun stuff-"

"Gabs, I told you already."

"I don't think you did-"

Taylor continued, dismissing her reply, "And I know homecoming and all that is over, but-like I _already_ said-I'm volunteering this weekend at the soup kitchen, and my mom's going to be out of town...I think she's actually flying over to Baltimore, but yeah...so my sister-you know Stacie-is the new editor for the school news paper..."

"I still don't really get what all this means Tay-"

"_This_ all means I have to _be_ in here for research on this one thing that Stacie wants to do an article on, because I won't have anytime over the weekend," Taylor breathed, placing her hands tiredly over her hips. "So what's _your_ excuse, the library's closed because Mrs. Amberline went off to some convention across town."

"I'm just..."Gabriella paused, turning away and lowering her voice an octave, "Tired."

Sitting next to Gabriella, she pushed forgotten books to the far side of the table top. "Oh...hn," Pulling her paper bag lunch to her lap, Taylor unwrapped a small ham and cheese sandwich, "Why? What's up?"

Groaning, Gabriella muttered, "Nothing...I just need more sleep I guess."

It wasn't that she really minded Taylor there, the two of them were normally close amongst their group of friends. The two had actually met in sixth grade when paired up to sit next to each other in science, and since then, they were almost attached to the hip. _Almost_. Taylor had always been preoccupying herself with extra curricular activities like volunteering or summer jobs, and they had slightly grown apart since middle school. However, they still considered each other best friends, it's just she had been hoping that the library wold stay empty for her entire lunch period. She wanted to be left alone for a while.

Drumming her fingers aimlessly across the table top, she stared blankly at her friend, oddly wanting Taylor to at least leave her be in her current position. It didn't seem necessary for her to tag along, especially considering Taylor did say she had work to do.

"Want the other half?" Taylor offered the uneaten part of her sandwich, smiling.

Gabriella clasped her hands around the straps of her messenger bag, politely shaking her head and muttering something incoherently, before trying to leave.

"What was that Gabs?"

"Er," she stopped in her place, "No thanks...I'm a vegetarian." Gabriella bit her lip, "Remember? Because I'm pretty sure that _I _already-"

"What?" Taylor paused, swallowing a bite of her sandwich, "What do you mean?"

"I _said_, I. Don't. Eat. Meat. Anym-"

Taylor rolled her eyes teasingly, stuffing the rest of her lunch back in her paper bag, "I heard what you said, but come _on_ Gabs. You can't seriously be a _vegetarian_." She paused. "You tried that in eighth grade, and you didn't last for a few days. I mean...you're kidding this time. Right?"

Gabriella sighed, pulling a stray strand of hair away from her eyes, and gripped onto her bag, "I don't get why this is a big d-"

"How long have you been a _vegetarian_ this time?" Taylor asked, drawing out the title.

"Tayl-"

"-I mean, I thought you, like, _love_ turkey bacon...or, well, something like that. Right?"

"Look...Tay. I've lasted," she began, gritting her teeth and wanting to leave already, "For just a little over a month," Gabriella paused, making sure her friend was finally listening. "I've lost, like, sixteen pounds since then too. There are benefits to it, and it's actually easier than I thought. No. Big. Deal." She finished impatiently, crossing her arms tightly over her stomach and blowing her hair out of her eyes yet again.

"_Wait!_ Sixteen _pounds_?!" Taylor's eyebrows drew together in a straight line, "How much do you weigh?"

"Last time I checked...about 102."

Placing a firm hand on her hip, Taylor cocked an eyebrow at her friend disbelievingly, "You were _not_ 118 pounds Gabi. You're like, _four_ foot _eleven_!-"

Gabriella smiled sarcastically, "Yes Taylor. Thank you for reminding me of my vertical challenges. Thank you. Truly. But I have to _go_-"

"Wait, why?"

"Uh, I have to talk to someone...it's kind of important."

"...Who?"

"Drop it Tay. I'll talk to you later ok?," calling over her shoulder, she quickly tiptoed up the stairs and exited through the large double doors leading to the hallway.

---

Colder temperatures were finally settling in Albuquerque. Outside, after school had let out as per usual, the neighborhood children were jumping into piles upon piles of fresh autumn leaves, as soft breezes blew into people's hair and past stark trees. Thin clouds flew slowly over brick houses, blotching the chilly blue sky with flecks of white.

Punching an uncooperative pillow, Troy grunted as he fell back into bed, drowning himself in the mountains of blankets and comforters his paranoid father had given him earlier that day.  
_  
"Mom probably would have let me gone to school today..." Troy said quietly when ordered to stay in bed._

_"Troy...you're sick. I don't mind if you miss basketball practice today-"_

_"_Mom_ wouldn't mind if I missed basketball at _all."

_Jack Bolton cringed, sitting at the foot of his son's bed, he carefully smoothed out the ripples and dents made in the thick blankets before returning back to Troy, "Look son..." he paused, making sure he was given attention, "You've been sick all weekend with a cold-heaven knows why. I mean, you were perfectly fine Friday night." Jack breathed silently, "Why the sudden interest in going to school today anyways?"_

_At the front of the bed, Troy's cheeks flushed, unsure whether it was from the question, his fever, or just the heat of the blankets. Turning away casually, he dug deeper into the comforters, sniffling occasionally and resting the side of his head on his pillow, "Nothing Dad. It's nothing ok-"_

_"-I've checked with all your teachers, and you won't be missing much...It's going to be alright."_

_"Sure..."  
_  
_Jack stared at his son sternly, patting his shoulder, before making his way downstairs and to work. Holding the door knob in his hand, Jack looked over his shoulder slightly_. _"It's going to be alright," he repeated, seemingly more to himself rather than to Troy._

After waking up to a bad headache, he had been grumbling to himself incoherently for the past twenty minutes. Troy kicked the sheets from his bed, tangling his feet in the process, before sitting up in only a pair of navy blue boxers and a white t-shirt. Surrounded in his own room with the variety of small and large trinkets and trophies, he breathed deeply, ignoring the musty smell that came with the puddles of laundry scattered across the floor. He coughed loudly, choking out a forced "dammit" and stood up to draw the curtains to his bedroom windows.

Now standing in the middle of a messy dimly lit room, he groaned to himself, rolling his eyes. After complaining to no one in particular, he carelessly threw on a pair of pajama pants and trudged downstairs, coughing along each step.

Finally landing himself in his own living room, he slumped over a desk lamp before grabbing his home phone, dialing a familiar number, he waited impatiently. Troy then sighed, listening to his friend's voice mail.

_"Hey, it's the Chad-o-rama here...ahem...uh...well, I'm not supposed to be here if you ever listen to one of these...soooo...I guess that means that...er, you...well leave all the shit you're supposed to and I'll attempt to get back to you...and...yeah. That's it....ok...hn...er...Now I press the seven cause it's done now right, Tay?...Taylor?"_

The other end of the line made a quick beeping noise, before he hung up. "Screw you Chad," Troy muttered, "Screw _you_." Chucking the phone across the room, he cringed when it almost didn't land on his dad's recliner. "Of_ all _the times you don't answer your freaking phone..."

Making his way into the kitchen, he poured himself a glass of orange juice, sloppily wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His day so far consisted of eating microwaved chicken noodle soup, sleeping from about 9 AM to 2:30, and waiting for his dad to come home. Troy wasn't used to being sick. He had even mentioned two nights before that it had been "just a stupid fluke that his immune system had failed him".

From outside, there was a loud thumping noise, startling Troy for a split second.

Ignoring it, he cross two rooms and turned on his tv to a random show, flicking switches and buttons to the remote control before he landed on a rerun of _Scrubs_. Settling himself in front of the television, the show hadn't made it to ten minutes before two thumps followed after the previous one. Rolling his eyes for the umpteenth time, he straightened his posture and forced himself to march outside to his front porch.

After shutting the door behind him, he squinted his eyes at one end of the road, then to the other. Finding himself glaring at nothing.

Troy walked up to the side walk, ignoring the cold feeling between his bare feet and the cement. It was nearing 4 PM now and few kids were still playing in their front yards. Staring across the street, he found his neighbor, Mrs. Walker, watering a pot of marigolds. She paused briefly, waving to him, and he politely replied the jesture before turning around. "Dammit...I'm delusional."

"Who are you talking to?"

Turning around, Troy furrowed his eyebrows, "Hi...?"

Gabriella hugged her torso, shifting her weight from each foot. In all reality, she wasn't quite sure how she ended up in this neighborhood. It wasn't very far from school, but she had still spent more than an hour wandering around, carefully trying to remember street names and familiar houses. It didn't really matter anyways, her mother was actually expecting to pick her up from school at five after her scholastic decathlon practice. However, she had chosen to skip the extra lessons, excusing herself politely, and called her mom, lying that she was actually "catching a ride with Taylor".

Soon after, she had decided to take a walk to who-knows-where, and found herself standing before the very boy she had been looking for all day standing in the middle of the road, wearing dorky basketball printed pajama pants and staring at nothing in particular.

"Um..." she said hesitantly, "Do you live here?"

Troy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "Uh, yeah...did you happen to hear a...thumping noise?"

She tilted her head to the sighed, staring at him curiously, "No...what are you talking about...Troy?" Testing the name on her lips, she inwardly grinned as it rolled of her tongue effortlessly.

Pulling back in his, he pinched the bridge of his nose with his fore finger and thumb, before sitting down on the curb side. He coughed quietly as he watched her sit next to him, playing with he fingers. Awkwardly, he asked, "Er...How'd you get here Gabriella?"

"I walked."

He nodded his head curtly, "Did you go to school?"

"Yeah," she began timidly, "I've actually been...looking for you..." she added in a softer voice, "All day."

"Oh." Troy smiled at her, ruining it by coughing. "I was sick."

He watched as her face morphed into confusion, then relaxed, she muttered, "That makes sense." She broke into a friendly grin, dropping the book bag she still carried to her side, "I was actually beginning to think that you were just a random stranger who lies for a living...er, that just happened to know the high school I attend and Chad..."

Troy chuckled, "Nah." He paused, holding in a smile, "_It_ just happens that it turned out to be colder than I expected it to be Friday night, and I lent someone my jacket..."

Almost immediately, Gabriella blushed, turning a shade of beet red, "Oh..." She watched him continue to grin at her, "I-I was actually meaning to...to give it back to you..." Reaching into the front of her messenger back, she pulled out the brown leather jacket, and handed it to Troy, placing it in his lap.

"Thanks."

She answered sheepishlyy, "Uh...No problem."

Trying discreetly, Troy looked over at Gabriella. He could smell her hair, whiffing a hint of strawberry shampoo. He vaguely remembered that it had been longer last year, almost down to her mid back, but now it fell just above her shoulders, swaying in thick wavy strands.

Wanting to break the silence, he asked skeptically, "How'd you know where I live?"

Catching her off guard, she rubbed her upper arm, "Um...I was actually just...you know, wandering around. My mom doesn't expect me home until five...so..." She trailed off, blushing.

She felt apprehensive, it was one thing for someone to approach her, and it was something else when it was herself who began the offer, even _if_ it wasn't really planned out that way in the first place. What was she really doing here? Gabriella found the blood rush back to her cheeks, tinting in pink.

"Um..." she tried, "Are you home alone?"

Troy cocked an eyebrow, smirking "Depends," covering his laugh with a cough.

"No! Er..." she frowned, "It's just, I saw your dad in the gym before I left school...so er, I though...he, um, w-wouldn't be...here." Gabriella paused, pursing her lips into a thin line, "And...it's just, kind of weird...that your mom would let you outside...even though you're sick."

Troy ran a hand through his messy hair and said firmly, "Yeah. My parents are actually divorced, so yes. My house is empty."

"Oh," she shrunk in her spot, flinching, "Sorry."

"It's fine," he chuckled, "It actually just happened, so it still hasn't hit reality yet." Shrugging his shoulders, he forced a smile and coughed.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah," Troy said in a low voice, "I'm just tired...that's all."

"Hn," Gabriella nodded, matching his tone, "I know the feeling." Shifting her bag in her lap, she propped her hand to hold up her chin, feeling Troy's presence finally stand up on his feet.

Opening her mouth to add something, she reclosed it thoughtfully, wondering whether he was going back inside. Wondering if he was leaving-if he was leaving _her_. "C'mon," looking up, she, instead, found him offering her a hand, "It's almost five." Taking his hand in her smaller one, she stood up, beginning to rethink this was just her imagination. But whether if it was or not,

she found herself not wanting to let go.

* * *

**AN: Soooooo...sort of iffy about this one (translation: thought it was suckish). BUT-that's not really my call. SO review. Please...? They make me happy and I've been down lately...so review. You won't regret it. Promise.**

**This chapter also wouldn't been up here if it wasn't for my bestest buddy-buddy, she who calmed me down when I freaked about erasing half of it and taught me how to use the 'undo' button. **

**_Review._**

**-ImmaHatefulCritic  
**


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